Invisible City
by racefh853629
Summary: A storm knocks out more than just the power, and the night brings more horrors than ever before.
1. Introduction

A/N: Yes, this is a new story from me, and it's not a one-shot... haha. Okay. I don't own CSI, the characters, CBS, or any other known entity. "Invisible City" is a song by The Wallflowers, and the secondary chapter titles are lyrics from the song. I do not own the song. Having said all that, I really hope you guys like the story. :D Please review.

* * *

Invisible City- Introduction

_**Lookin' back at the crash site, I don't see me by the roadside.**_

Racing through the darkened city, Greg frowned. He had a feeling he was going to be late for work, and Grissom was going to be pissed. He still was trying to drive safely in the inclement weather, despite needing to get to the lab, fast. He stopped at the red light, cursing the powers that be for causing the horrific thunderstorm that knocked out power in his apartment. He lost track of time, which was making him late for work. Grissom was really going to be pissed.

The light turned green, and Greg punched the accelerator. He never saw the car coming from the left as it skidded and made impact with his driver's door. As metal hit metal, everything faded to black. Voices, screams, skidding tires on wet asphalt, crunching glass, and creaking metal all meshed together into one nightmare before that too disappeared into nothing.

* * *

"Fuckin' A, man," Nick cursed as he and Warrick pulled up to a crowd of cars. The intermittent flashing of blue, white, yellow, and red lights proved delays were due to people's morbid curiosity when police, paramedics, and the fire department were involved in situations. The pair in the Denali had been called to investigate a deadly traffic accident, where the decedent was presumed responsible for the crash.

"Curiosity doesn't just kill cats," Warrick groaned. The worst part about working most crime scenes was the on-lookers that saw flashing lights and ran out to see what was up. As they managed to work their way closer, they saw the paramedics and firemen working on the black car, the one with the decedent. The other car, a silver one that was mangled as hell, had already been cut apart and the driver extracted. Warrick and Nick got out of the Denali and walked over to Sofia.

"So, what you see is what you get," she said sadly. "Decedent was driving the 1997 Ford Probe that you see the paramedics still trying to get the guy out of. The other victim was in the 2001 Chevy Corvette. Eyewitnesses say the Probe blew the light, tried to slow down, but didn't work well since the pavement's soaked. Slammed the Corvette on the left, driver's door. Driver's on his way to Desert Palms." The pair nodded, turning to the accident.

"Wait a minute," Nick said, looking at the carcass of the silver Corvette. "This looks like Greggo's car."

"That's because it is." Nick and Warrick whipped their heads to face Sofia. "I was getting to that. He wasn't responsive when they got him out, so I don't know how he's doing, guys. Decedent's name is Mitchell Jaccoby, age 35, of Laughlin." Nick turned to Warrick, who looked back at him.

"So, process, drop off, get to the hospital?" Warrick asked his partner.

"I'll call Griss," Nick replied. "He definitely needs to know about this."

* * *

Grissom and Ecklie walked into the break room together, with the lab rats in tow. Sara looked up from her magazine, and Catherine watched over the brim of her coffee mug. Grissom looked distraught, and Ecklie's face was etched with concern. Hodges, Wendy, Mandy, and Archie were completely confused as to what was going on. "We called you all in here because we figured this would be best for you all to find out now," Ecklie started, eyeing Grissom. Grissom sighed, looking at Ecklie and shaking his head. "There was an accident tonight out on Calvadeer Avenue. Greg Sanders was broad-sided by another car, a Ford Probe. He's at Desert Palms Hospital, reports at the scene indicate he was unresponsive and barely still alive."

Sara looked helplessly at Grissom, who had trained his ever-clouding vision on the floor. Catherine dropped her coffee mug, which shattered on impact with the floor, before putting her head in her hands. Mandy's mouth dropped open in shock, and Archie felt his eyes well up. Wendy put her hands over her mouth as tears fell down her cheeks, and Hodges punched the doorframe… hard. Ecklie sighed softly, taking a moment before continuing.

"He's listed in critical condition," Ecklie continued. "Doctors aren't calling anything right now, but said there's a decent chance he won't make it through the night." The anxious pain of the room increased exponentially with Ecklie's previous statement. "Swing shift is set to cover for all of you guys, even lab guys. You all have the night off. When Nick and Warrick get back, I'll talk to them." Everyone in the room managed a sign that they heard Ecklie, and he breathed out slowly. "I'm sorry, guys," he said quietly as he left. Everyone in the room looked first at Ecklie's departing form, then at one another.

Despite their different reactions, one thing was consistent throughout all of them- regret. They were all regretting the fact that tonight, they were being instructed to go to the hospital to say goodbye to their beloved friend and colleague. Begrudgingly, they walked out one by one to head to Desert Palms for what was shaping up to be a very long night.


	2. Part 1

A/N: I don't own CSI, CBS, or any known entity. "Invisible City" is a song by The Wallflowers from which the bold/italicized subtitles come, and I don't own that too. The next two chapters contain the idea that Greg's soul is waiting for the body to live or die, which is a little supernatural. During that time period, he encounters a person from his past (in this chapter) and some other stuff that will be seen next chapter. Please, just go with me on this... lol. No flames for the little meeting to come, please. As always, enjoy and review. :)

* * *

Invisible City- Part One

**_This heart is on wheels tonight, straight through the ghettos and without lights _**

The fuzzy white of nothingness felt comfortable, warm, friendly. He felt no pain, wasn't really feeling much anything, in all honesty. Greg looked around, wondering where he was and what was going on. "Hello?" he asked softly. A young man appeared in front of him.

"CSI Sanders," he said softly. The face looked familiar, but he didn't know where he had seen it before.

"Who are you?" The kid chuckled softly.

"I didn't think you'd recognize me. Demitrius James. Ring a bell?" Greg's eyes went wide in fear and shock.

"Holy shit I'm dead." Demitrius laughed, shaking his head.

"Not yet, Greg. You're in waiting." Confusion took a strong hold on the CSI, and he struggled to put the puzzle pieces together.

"Why are you here? Am I going to hell?" Demitrius laughed again and shook his head.

"No. I wanted to meet the person who killed me."

"Are you going to kill me?"

"Greg, you're having an out of body experience because your body is dying. I can't kill your soul. Relax, man." Greg took a deep breath, but was still cautious.

"So, why are you here?"

"Because I know you've been blaming yourself, but I want you to know that I don't blame you anymore."

"What?" Greg was more confused than he could ever remember being, but his fear had subsided a little.

"I was going to kill you for stopping us, no joke. I was pissed and wanted to kill you. You stopped me again, and I blamed you for it for a real long time. I fucking hated you for it for a while. I know you didn't mean for me to die, though. I also know you still feel bad about it to this day. What you don't know is that you're not the only person at CSI to kill someone."

"What do you mean? Who else?"

"Well, you know Catherine killed the Strip Strangler years ago, but who I was really talking about was…"

* * *

Nick and Warrick arrived at the hospital after dropping off their evidence and meeting with Ecklie. They found the rest of the team there in a waiting room. "Any word yet?" Nick asked frantically.

"Nothing," Sara whispered.

"Fuck." They collapsed into chairs- Nick between Hodges and Mandy, Warrick between Catherine and the wall. Wendy was on the other side of Hodges, and Archie had settled himself on the floor in front of them with his knees tucked tightly into his chest. Grissom was on the other side of Catherine, with Sara beside him, holding his hand tightly.

The tension in the room was unbearable. Fear, desperation, depression, denial, anger, and regret blended into an emotional soup that was drowning everyone present, choking them off from speaking, breathing, thinking. The silence was worse than the tension, and after ten minutes, Nick couldn't take it any more.

"Has anyone told Greg's parents?" he asked, amazingly calmly despite the turmoil bubbling under his skin.

"Hospital called them," Grissom replied softly. Nick nodded.

"I'm going outside for a walk."

"In this weather?" Wendy asked. The storm had kicked up harder, ominously almost, pounding the structures with a vengeance.

"I can't sit here," he replied.

"I'll go with you," Mandy said quickly, knowing that Nick shouldn't be alone right now. "Page us when you know something?" Grissom nodded his agreement, and the pair left the team in the waiting room.

* * *

"Am I supposed to die tonight?" Greg asked Demitrius. "Is it my time?"

"No," Demitrius replied calmly.

"I was just supposed to really meet you?"

"No. There's a chance you won't remember this when you come to."

"So I'll be fine?" Demitrius shrugged.

"I don't really know."

"Then why are you…"

"To calm you, G. I don't know what's going to happen. I just know you won't die."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Will I be the same?"

"By now, Greg, you've learned that everything changes, us included. You can't go through things and not change. You never notice the subtleties, but each day, we change. There's no such thing as being the same, because you're different every day. You just have some semblance of normal that seems consistent every day. This is a big change, though, but you'll adapt."

"What if I don't?"

"You will. You have no choice." Greg sighed.

"Why don't you hate me? I killed you, and you're acting like you don't care."

"I'll be honest," Demitrius started. "I hated you for a while. I know you also hated yourself a lot for that. You helped my brother out a bit, too, and that made me a little less angry. But I've had a lot of time to sit up here and think about what happened and why you did what you did. I know that I scared the fucking hell out of you that night. You're a slightly cagey person, and though you seek thrills and adventure, when it involves other people getting hurt, you get jumpy. So when I started toward you with the intent to kill you, and believe me, I meant to kill you that night, you freaked. You hit me. You didn't mean to kill me. I know you could never kill someone intentionally. I see you with your friends, your family, even with complete strangers. You're a compassionate person. You hurt bad because you killed me. Me being mad at you from the other side isn't hurting you more than you hurting yourself. You've punished yourself a lot for that in the year and a half since. You've done well enough."

"You've been watching me?" Greg asked, confused.

"Every day. What can I say, I was obsessed for about six months. I got over it, over wanting to make you suffer, and realized you were just really amusing to watch. You thought you were hiding your guilt so well, but every single one of them could see it, Greg. Even socially-retarded Grissom knew you were feeling guilty as all hell. You still do, to this day. Something you should let go of. I hated you for six months before I realized that if the roles had been reversed, I would have done the exact same thing. Yeah, I still hate that I'm dead, but I'm over hating you for it. I watched you that night a year ago in your apartment. You know, that night after Grissom told you the city paid my mom? You wanted to kill yourself that night, and probably would have, if Catherine hadn't come over to see how you were doing. I knew after watching you that night exactly where you stood on what happened. I learned a lot. I couldn't hate you anymore."

"Yeah." Greg's voice was soft, barely a whisper.

"Don't worry anymore, Greg. Don't apologize for doing what you had to do. It was either going to be you or me that made it out of that alley alive. It was my time."

"Right." Greg sighed softly. "You know, I wish we could've met under better pretenses." Demitrius chuckled.

"If I had a friend like you, man, maybe we wouldn't have to have met like this." Greg nodded, and Demitrius extended his hand with a small smile. "It's okay, Greg. You can stop hating yourself." Greg shook his hand.

"You're a really smart guy."

"Gained it all post-mortem." Demitrius smiled, and Greg returned it softly. "Have a good life, man. I'll be watching." Greg nodded as they released the handshake. And as abruptly as he had appeared, Demitrius James was gone.

* * *

Nick stepped out into the parking lot, Mandy trailing him closely. The puddles in the lot were ankle-deep and growing as the rain poured down relentlessly. Within seconds of leaving the overhang of the emergency room entrance, they were soaked to the bone. Nick didn't seem to notice, and Mandy didn't really care. He stopped at a bench a good distance away, sitting down as thunder roared in defiance. Mandy sat beside him, and he glanced at her now running makeup. "You shouldn't have come with me," he told her softly.

"You shouldn't be alone right now," she replied.

"I'll be fine."

"Yeah, okay. I know how much Greg means to you. You've known him for the better part of 10 years. He's the little brother you never had."

"How in the hell would you know?"

"I'm not an idiot." Nick decided to keep his mouth shut, knowing that he'd probably only say words he didn't mean. She put her left hand on top of his right, working her fingers between his. He didn't move, didn't respond, deciding instead to stare at the pond formerly known as the staff parking lot. "I'm sorry, Nick."

"About what?" he asked quietly, pain wrenched deeply into every barely uttered word.

"This."

"You didn't hit him."

"I know."

"You have nothing to be sorry about."

"I know."

"Then why are you?"

"Why do people say they're sorry to mourners? Like it makes everything better, takes the pain away any?" Mandy shook her head as Nick turned to look at her. "Nothing makes it better."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know," she told him honestly as she found her rain-soaked jeans to be intriguing. He sighed softly, realizing his misguided emotions were hurting her too. He unlaced their hands, causing her to look over at him. He threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her gently against him.

"I'm sorry for being an ass right now," he told her softly. She shook her head.

"It's okay." She rested her head against the wet cotton of his shirt, listening to the steady heartbeat of the strong Texan. He hugged her closely, thankful for the company and for the current warm void from the cold rain. Despite being in the middle of Nevada, the night was frigid, making the rain feel like wet globs of ice, accumulating and sliding down their bodies.

"How are you holding this in so well?"

"It's the way I roll, Stokes. Like water off a duck's back." He looked down at her closed eyes and soft frown and knew instantly that she was lying.

"Liar."

"I try to wait, keep hope and faith," she said, sitting up to look him in the eye. "I guess it's harder for you CSIs to do that, with all the shit you see, but I'm naïve, and I get to keep that innocence. I know bad shit happens and that I analyze the prints that put away the criminals of some really horrible crimes. But I guess I still hold on to the romantic image of life- that everything comes together and miracles do occur. I have faith, hope, that Greg'll make it through this."

"I wish I had your faith, Mandy." She shrugged.

"I'm glad you don't. It hurts so much worse when you convince yourself that everything'll be okay and the opposite happens." He furrowed his brow in confusion, and as he opened his mouth to say something, her pager chimed. "I guess they know something. Let's go find them again." He nodded, closing his mouth and standing with her. She latched onto his arm gently as the pair walked out of the fury of the weather and into the sterile, comforting heat of the hospital. They wound their way through the corridors until they reached the waiting room once again.

"They're saying it's too soon to tell," Grissom told them. "They found trauma-induced swelling around his brain. It could work itself out and leave no lasting effects, or there may still be some, or it could kill him. He's lost a lot of blood, and he's had surgery to repair some internal bleeding. He has a few broken ribs, broken wrist bones and a broken ulna. If he pulls through tonight, he may have a chance." Nick sighed.

"Let's hope your faith pays out," he whispered to her.

"Yeah," she replied softly, inwardly hoping along with the rest of them that Greg would actually make it.


	3. Part 2

A/N: See introduction for disclaimer. I own the names of Greg's parents (who appear in the end part of this section). So, this part looks into the idea that Greg's wandering spirit is now in the waiting room with everyone... and watching them... and commenting on their thoughts. Keep in mind, though, that no matter what Greg is saying, they can't hear him. Okay, that said, enjoy, and please review. :)

* * *

Part 2**_Now every heart has a blindside, where it learns how to improvise_**

The all-white room he had found himself in previously was changing, and Greg watched in horror as it morphed into a different room with cream colored walls, and clay red and flat black floor tiles. The aged crimson chairs that lined the walls were occupied with all of his friends, everyone from the lab. He sat down on the floor next to Archie, who was crying. "Arch?" Greg asked the A/V tech softly. "Archie?"

"So, now what?" Sara asked, looking at everyone in the room.

"We wait," Grissom replied softly.

"That's it?" Nick asked, anxiety in his voice.

"There's nothing else we can do, Nicky. We can't make him heal. He has to do that on his own."

"But I'm fine," Greg insisted. He didn't know how, but he knew that they were talking about him.

"What if he doesn't?" Nick asked, ignoring Greg. "I don't think I could take losin' him."

"He has a chance," Warrick said.

"We can't play 'what if,' Nicky," Catherine said.

"What can we do, then?" Nick asked.

"Wait. Pray if you're religious." Greg sighed, looking at the distraught faces of his friends.

"But I'm fine, guys," he said loudly. "I'm right here! Can't you see me?" He stood up, walking around and looking at everyone in the room. "Can anyone see me?" He reached out to Warrick, and watched in horror as his hand went right through his friend's shoulder. "I'm a ghost." He looked at the silent, horror-stricken faces of his friends. "I'm a ghost."

Greg moved and sat on the floor in the corner of the room, watching his friends, colleagues, surrogate family. Catherine was holding onto Warrick, both somewhat looking like if they let go of one another, everything would fall apart. Grissom looked stoic, Sara was on the edge of falling apart, but they were hanging onto each other as well. Archie sat in a ball on the floor, crying and ignoring everyone. Wendy and Hodges were whispering to each other in the chairs behind Archie. Nick and Mandy, both soaked, were standing over by the windows watching the rain pour down outside. Greg looked at everyone, sighing.

"I'm going to die," he said aloud. He watched as the door opened, and Brass, Cavaliere, Ecklie, Vega, Vartann, and Sofia all walked in together. "I bet you guys can't see me either."

"Any word?" Sofia asked, not hearing Greg.

"He has trauma induced brain swelling," Grissom said. Greg looked at his boss, eyes wide. "He's lost a lot of blood. He's had surgery to repair the internal bleeding, but he's still got a broken arm and wrist and a couple broken ribs."

"That's all, huh?" Greg asked sarcastically, shaking his head. "No wonder I'm dying." The detectives sat among themselves with the exception of Sofia, who sat next to Archie. Ecklie sat next to Grissom, frowning.

"Have they changed their position?" Ecklie asked.

"They think he might make it if he can get through tonight," Grissom told him.

"So I do have a chance," Greg muttered.

"God damn," Ecklie said softly. "I don't think we can lose another CSI."

"Not our fault Keppler died."

"I know it's not our fault. This isn't a reflection on anyone but the guy driving, but still… we got lucky that Sidle made it okay." Sara squeezed Grissom's hand at that point, and Greg sighed.

"How we ever found her in time, I'll never know."

"We can't lose Sanders, too."

"I think some people might enjoy that, though."

"I don't know," Sara said softly. "I have this weird feeling that he's here. I mean, like, right here, in this room with us."

"Maybe because I am," Greg said softly.

"Sara, come on," Nick groaned from the window. "He's not here with us, he's upstairs fightin' for his life."

"Oh, if only you knew, Nicky."

"Fuck off, Nick," Sara growled. "You take comfort how you will. Maybe it makes me feel better to believe he's here. Why do you have to attack that?"

"Because you're talkin' crazy," Nick shot back.

"Nick, shut up," Mandy said. "You're upset, and you're taking it out on Sara." He sighed, and she hugged him gently.

"I can't stay here."

"This isn't like you, Nicky," Greg said. "You usually don't run away from your problems."

"It's too much," Nick continued, not hearing Greg. "We're all just sittin' here, starin' at one another, holdin' onto each other, for nothin'!"

"You're all here because you're going through this together."

"We're not talkin', we're just silently anxious because we're all thinkin' that at any fuckin' point, the doctor's gonna walk in and tell us that he's dead. I can't take this. I can't take the fuckin' quiet."

"Then start the conversation, dammit. Jesus, Nick, for a CSI 3, you're pretty dumb sometimes."

"So, what? Do we all just fuckin' sit here and stare at one another and pretend like we're… I don't know! What the hell are we doin'?"

"You're waiting for me to make up my fucking mind as to whether or not I'm going to die."

"I can't do this silent shit anymore, so someone please fuckin' decide what the hell we're doin' otherwise."

"You need to calm down, Cowboy," Mandy said. "You freaking out right now isn't going to make Greg get better any quicker. I know you're hurting and the silence annoys you, but you need to calm down, take a step back and about twenty deep breaths." Nick sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. She hugged him gently, and Greg smiled.

"You two should really just get together already," he said. "Of course, you guys really can't hear me, but… damn, this sucks. No one can hear me." He sighed, bringing his knees to his chest.

"I don't know what to say," Grissom told Nick honestly.

"We can't lose him," Sara said.

"The lab wouldn't be the same without him," Hodges muttered. Greg looked at the trace tech.

"You really do like me," he said.

"You actually like him, don't you?" Catherine said to Hodges.

"He's a good kid," Hodges replied defensively. "Fun to pick on. Who will be left if he dies?"

"Maybe we shouldn't think like that," Wendy said. "I mean, about him dying. There's a chance. We should hope, have faith."

"Everything in my gut is telling me worst-case scenario," Warrick said glumly.

"Surprise, I'm still here," Greg said. "Why am I even bothering? You guys don't hear me. Of course, that could be a good thing, considering I'm saying some pretty dumb shit over here."

"I don't know," Wendy said. "I just want to feel like everything's going to be okay."

"The other driver's dead," Nick said calmly. Everyone aside from Sofia and Warrick looked a little shocked. Archie didn't move or react, staying in the ball he had been in since they got there. "The accident was bad. The guy was speedin', and when he tried to stop, it was too late."

"He tried?" Greg muttered into his knees. "Could've fooled me."

"How the hell did Greg make it this far in life?" Sara asked.

"I'm a stubborn little fuck."

"He's tough, Sara," Sofia said softly, resting her hand on Archie's shoulder. Archie looked at her, the first time he'd moved in a while. She gave him a sympathetic smile, and he let go of his legs to put his arms around her as she hugged him gently.

"He didn't die after his lab exploded," Brass said, continuing Sofia's thought.

"Or when he got his ass kicked," Hodges said.

"Though my life would've been easier if I had," Greg mumbled. "Maybe I should just succumb this time."

"He's not going to die this time, either," Brass said.

"Yeah, whatever you say."

"He's a strong kid who's fought to get where he is. He's not going to pass on now."

"No, I just might now that my life's complete. You know, after joining the few in the ranks of CSIs that have killed someone, almost dying a couple times. Maybe this should be my time. I've cheated this shit too many times, you know? Actually, you don't, because you can't hear me, but anyway…"

"I'll kill him if he does," Nick said, causing Greg to laugh.

"Little counter-productive there, Nicky," Greg said.

"Umm, Nick…" Warrick said.

"I know, that didn't make sense," Nick replied sadly.

"No, but you did amuse the half-dead," Greg said.

"So, now what?"

"You have no patience sometimes," Warrick said.

"I know," Nick replied, sighing. "I hate waiting for news."

"We all do. Chill a bit though, bud." The door to the waiting room opened, and sixteen heads snapped to look at it. Gail and Brian Sanders walked in, looking at their son's friends and colleagues.

"Fuck," Greg said. "If my parents are here, it must be real bad."

"How is he?" Gail asked, looking at everyone in the room.

"Not too good, Mrs. Sanders," Grissom replied. "I'm Grissom, your son's supervisor." Introductions were made for everyone in the group, and Gail and Brian took seats near Grissom and Sara.

"I can't believe this is happening to my baby," Gail cried, causing Greg to frown. "How did this happen? What's going to happen to the asshole that did this to my son?"

"Mrs. Sanders," Nick said softly. "The other driver died at the scene." Gail kept crying as Brian held onto her, trying to instill some comfort in her. The sadness of the room had increased tenfold when Greg's parents had walked in, and even Greg himself was getting upset.

"I don't want to die," he said, tears starting to fall. "I can't do that to my mom. I love you, Mom." Greg curled tighter into a ball on the floor, crying harder. "I don't want to die. Please, don't let me die." Much to Greg's horror, everything- the room, the people, the sounds- all blended together, fading to a black abyss of unconsciousness.


	4. Part 3

A/N: Sorry updates have been slow... I had to send my laptop out for repairs, so internet time is lessened... Thankfully I have my stories on a flash drive:) Anyway, I don't own CSI, CBS, or any known entity. "Invisible City" is a song by The Wallflowers from which the bold/italicized subtitles come, and I don't own that too. I own the names of Greg's parents, as well as Doctor Jefferson (introduced this chapter). Enjoy, and please review. :)

* * *

Invisible City- Part 3**_In this invisible city, where no one sees nothing_**

_Beep. Drip. Beep. Drip. Beep. Drip. Beep. Drip._

Greg awoke to the sounds of the heart monitor marking every beat and the IV dribbling solution into his veins. He kept his eyes closed, the black he saw seeming extremely comforting yet somewhat alarming. He tried to move, but his body felt as heavy as lead. "Greg?" he heard Grissom say softly from down by where his feet would be if he could actually fully feel them.

"I'm alive, right?" he asked his boss, keeping his eyes closed.

"Yes, very much so." There was relief, and a hint of amusement, in his voice, Greg noticed.

"Okay, good. How long have I been out for?"

"A couple days now." He gained more awareness of his surroundings, hearing the scuffling of the visitors in the hallway and the excited breaths of the rest of his own visitors.

"Damn. Hey, who else is here?" He tried to open his eyes, but the black would not go away. Greg couldn't see the worried look exchanged amongst his visitors. "Dammit, why won't my eyes open?"

"Your eyes are open," Nick said softly, his voice coming from somewhere behind Grissom.

"No they're not," Greg said in an almost child-like denial. "If they were, I'd be able to see." Greg lifted his hand to his face, feeling his way up to his eyes. He felt the closed lids and used his hands to open them. To his dismay, the blackness didn't disappear with the manual prying open of his eyes. "Oh, my God. I'm blind." He heard the sound of heels on the floor grow louder as a woman approached his bed.

"You're alive, though," she said softly, a voice Greg didn't recognize. "I'm Doctor Jefferson. Do you know what happened?"

"I was in a car accident," Greg replied. "Will I ever see again?"

"I don't know for sure, Greg. Your accident caused some brain swelling that must have pinched off the nerves required for vision. The swelling may go away, it may end up being permanent. You're lucky it didn't kill you, because it was touch and go for a while."

"How long until we know if it'll go away?"

"Again, I don't know, Greg." Greg sighed.

"Is there anything you do know?"

"That, barring any complications on the CT scan we're going to do later today, you can go home tomorrow, but you're going to have a check up in a couple days." Greg rolled his eyes. He knew he couldn't see his own act of annoyance, but the doctor sure could.

"I can't go home. I can't see shit."

"You can come stay with me," Nick offered, his voice closer to Greg in the darkness than before.

"But I can't stay with you forever," Greg countered. "And what about when you have to go to work? What about work? Shit, I can't work with no eyes."

"Greg, relax," Grissom said softly, trying to reason with him. Greg wasn't having any of that, though, at this moment.

"It's kind of hard to relax when your whole livelihood depends on whether or not you can see."

"Greg, come on," Catherine said, her voice right beside Greg's head. Greg probably would have jumped at the proximity if his body didn't feel like it was weighted down. "You'll figure something out."

"Right," he grumbled. "I'll start writing my own series of novels. You know, those trashy romance ones that are always so popular. How many ways can you describe a hard, throbbing cock?"

"Gregory," his mother's voice scolded him from next to Catherine.

"Sorry, Mom."

"Greg, look at it this way," Nick said. "At least you're alive."

"Yeah, but what kind of life will I have if I can't work, can't do anything on my own, and just, everything else?" Greg asked. The responding silence gave Greg all he needed to know- no one had the answer for him.

"When Nick's at work, Lindsey could stay with you," Catherine suggested after a moment.

"Just what every seventeen year old needs, to look after a thirty four year old blind colleague of their mother's."

"You might get your sight back, you know."

"And I might not. I'm just being real." He heard the doctor departing. "See you later," he joked to her.

"I'll be back, Greg," she replied softly, frowning. Greg sighed, turning in his bed as best he could with his broken ribs.

"I don't mean to be a complete rude asshole, but can you guys please leave?" he asked them softly. "I just want to be alone for a little."

"Okay, Greg," Grissom said softly. "We should get to the lab anyway. We'll be back later, okay?"

"Fine, great." The team walked out, followed by Greg's parents. Alone, he sighed, listening to the noises around him. He could hear the couple in the next room talking to the doctor, the husband being the patient and the wife the visitor. From their conversation, he could tell that the husband was dying from cancer, and the wife was getting instructions on how to take care of him at home. "Maybe I should look at it as at least I'm alive," Greg whispered to himself, desperate to hear something other than the depressing talk of the other room.

Falling silent again, he heard two nurses down the hall gossiping about one of the doctors. The beeping of his monitor grew in volume, as did the dripping of the IV solution. He could hear the distant buzz of the lights overhead, and the annoying tones alerting the nurses that another patient's call light was on in the hallway. A wheelchair made its way down the corridor, unoccupied, probably coming to pick someone up. Maybe the guy in the next room that was being discharged.

Greg sighed, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and detaching himself from the heart monitor. He paid no attention to the alarm as he stood up and made his way into the bathroom, IV in tow. Nature's call was more important than waiting in the hopes that a nurse would come before he pissed his bed. He had stumbled into the small bathroom and closed the door when a flurry of activity swarmed into his room. They thought he was dead or something. The idea made him chuckle dryly. Might as well be. "I had to piss," he called to them from the bathroom.

"Mr. Sanders, you're not supposed to go anywhere alone," a young girl told him.

"I'm blind. I'm not dead." He managed to flush the toilet and wash his hands as the door opened. Judging by the fact that she was wearing perfume, he figured she was a nursing student. "Don't they teach you kids not to wear perfume?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I can smell it from here, honey. Judging from the fact that you're wearing it at all, I'm assuming that you're in your first clinical." One of the other nurses in the room chuckled.

"Yeah," she told Greg. "She's new."

"I could tell," Greg replied bitterly. "Now, keep me off the damn monitor so we don't have a situation like this again, okay?"

"Doctor's orders. We can't take you off of it."

"Then you're going to be running in here all fucking day checking on me. I'm alive. I'm not going to die. So leave it off." He started to make his way back to the room as perfume-lady grabbed onto his arm. "Let me go, miss. I made it in here alone, so I think it's safe to say that I can make it back on my own." To his relief, she let go. "Thank you."

"Page us if you need something."

"Oh, I will," Greg retorted, rolling his eyes again. "I'm fine. I'm sure you guys have more important things to do, like gossiping about the doctors and who's better in bed."

"Have a good day, Mr. Sanders," the young girl said sweetly as they departed. Greg groaned a sigh.

"I hate hospitals." He climbed back into bed, curling up under the covers as best he could, trying to make himself comfortable. His doctor walked in once again.

"You're going to make this next day hell, aren't you?" she teased. Greg chuckled.

"Maybe," he replied. He heard her open bandage packages, and he smiled. "I'm getting rid of this IV, aren't I?"

"Yes. You don't need it now that you're awake."

"Heart monitor too?"

"Yes."

"Good. Fucking thing's annoying."

"I'm sorry, Greg, but like I told you before, you were touch-and-go for a while there."

"I know." The doctor gently pulled the IV line out of his arm before bandaging the spot where it had been. "Thank you," he told her softly.

"You're welcome, Greg. You have some really great friends, you know."

"Yeah."

"I mean, they did not leave your side until we kicked them out. There was always someone beside you."

"That's great."

"I know you're angry, Greg, but it'll be okay."

"Yeah, I know. I'm already on the second stage of grieving." She chuckled softly.

"Try to get some rest for now. I'll be back to get you soon, okay?"

"Yeah, cool." He heard her back away from the bed, bringing the IV and monitor equipment with her. As the noise settled down, he sighed softly. This was his life now- constant darkness. Something he assumed he'd one day get used to, but for now, he just wanted to sit in silence and curse his life.


	5. Part 4

A/N: I don't own CSI, the characters, the song "Invisible City" by The Wallflowers, or any other known entity. Brandon is a made up intern, which I do own. So, Greg's recovering... yay! And he decides to have a little fun in this chapter... Enjoy, and please review. :)

* * *

Invisible City- Part 4 **_The imitation of good faith is how you stumble upon hate_**

"Hey, Lindsey?" Greg called from his position on Nick's couch. He turned his heavily blurred vision to where Catherine's teenage daughter was working on her homework at the dining room table.

"You need something, Greg?" she asked. From the sound of her voice, he could tell that she didn't even look up from her book. He couldn't make out much more than the outline of the things in front of him, let alone the other room, but he knew she was doing her homework.

"How much work do you have?"

"I just have to finish this chapter, and then I'm done. Why?"

"Because I kinda want to go to the lab."

"I'll take you when I finish." Greg nodded.

"Thanks. I'm really sorry, kid."

"For what?"

"That you're stuck with me."

"Greg, shut up. You're cool as long as you don't call me 'kid.'" He laughed.

"Thanks, Linds."

"No problem." He turned back to the TV that he was more listening to than actually watching, letting her finish her homework. He heard her close the book a few minutes later.

"Done, or giving up?" he asked, not turning to her this time, choosing to instead flip the remote in his hand and try to catch it. Nick usually yelled at him when he did that, but Lindsey didn't care. Nick was afraid Greg would hurt himself because he couldn't see himself catch it, but Greg was a master of geometry, angles, and knowing without seeing where the remote was. He had become the master of blindly catching it.

"Done, smartass," she quipped.

"I'm telling your mother you're swearing at me."

"I'm telling Nick you're flipping the remote."

"Okay, fine, I'll be good." She smiled, grabbing her keys and her pocket book.

"God, Greg, who's the kid here, you or me?" He laughed before pouting.

"Mommy, can we get some ice cream?" he asked, in his best little kid voice. She laughed, shaking her head.

"Only if you're good while we're at work, Greggy," she replied playfully. He giggled, grabbing onto her hand like a kid to his mother, which made her laugh even harder. "I think you've lost your mind, Greg." He shook his head, feeling and hearing his brain moving along with it.

"No, it's still in there." She chuckled, shaking her head again.

"Come on, trouble maker, let's go." They left and locked Nick's apartment, Lindsey leading Greg to the car.

"How come I'm the trouble maker?" he asked, pouting.

"Because that's your middle name, according to Mom," she replied, opening the door for him. "Watch your head."

"You know, I can see a little bit, honey."

"Not much, though. I don't want Mom to get all pissed that you hit your head getting into the car."

"Hey, you're gonna help me out with my plans, right?"

"Depends on what they are." Greg grinned as she climbed into the car and turned it on.

"Well…"

* * *

Greg and Lindsey climbed out of her car at the crime lab, Lindsey linking her arm through his. "Linds, I can find around my way around here with my eyes closed," he told her. "I've done it before. Several times." 

"That doesn't surprise me," she replied. "I can't, though. This is so I don't get lost."

"Okay, then we'll enact our plan, and head for the break room after. You can sit there so that you don't have to worry about getting lost around the lab."

"And I'm supposed to let you just wander freely around here?"

"Yes. I can see some outlines, you know."

"Greg, Nick and Mom will kill me if I just let you roam free."

"Lindsey, you don't have a choice here. I can't get into too much trouble with all the people around the lab. I just can't be left completely alone with no one around." She sighed.

"If I get in trouble…"

"Yeah, you'll kill me. I got it." The pair walked into the lab, Greg grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "This is going to be so much fun."

* * *

Catherine walked into the break room to find her daughter sitting on one of the couches, reading a magazine. "Lindsey?" she asked. "What are you doing here?" 

"Greg wanted to come to the lab," she replied, looking up from her magazine to her mother. Catherine sat down across from her daughter with a soda in her hand.

"Where is he?"

"I don't know."

"Lindsey…"

"He wanted to roam. What's the worst that's going to happen? There's, like, a hundred people around here. I think he's pretty safe here."

"He could hurt himself in one of the labs."

"Which is staffed with people who will stop him. Relax, Mom, and trust him a little. He'll be okay." Catherine sighed, knowing her daughter was right, but still feeling a little bothered by the idea of Greg roaming around alone.

"He's still going to get into trouble."

"According to you, that's his middle name." Catherine chuckled at her daughter's comment.

"Yeah. Did you finish your homework?"

"Greg wouldn't leave Nick's until I had. I don't know who's babysitting who here." She laughed.

"He wants to make sure you're doing your homework, and you're trying to make sure he doesn't kill himself, so I guess it's a bit of both." Lindsey smiled as Nick and Warrick walked into the break room.

"If you're here, that must mean that Greg's here," Nick said to Lindsey.

"Yep," she replied.

"Where is he?" Warrick asked.

"I don't know. He said something about having it in for Hodges, though…"

* * *

Greg giggled as he walked into the trace lab. "DAVID!!!!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. Hodges jumped, not having seen the former DNA tech walk up to the lab. Greg laughed at Hodges' reaction, having heard the man bounce off the floor and land again. He couldn't see it, but he could picture it in his mind, and it was hilarious. 

"Fuck you, Sanders," the trace tech grumbled, going back to analyzing a sample.

"Come on, you know you missed me."

"Didn't you realize that I didn't care too much when I didn't go to visit you?"

"You were in the waiting room that night." Hodges stopped what he was doing to look at Greg.

"How do you know?" Greg froze, and Hodges watched him curiously. The younger man shifted uncomfortably.

"Uh, well, I kinda was there," he said softly.

"What?" Hodges asks, confused.

"Well, I was there. You guys couldn't see or hear me, though." Hodges continued to stare at Greg, who suddenly grinned. "I heard you say that the lab wouldn't be the same without me." Hodges watched as the twinkle grew in the younger man's eyes.

"Yeah, well, it's because you annoy me." Greg smiled.

"You know, Hodges, we know there's a human in there somewhere. Probably one you ate a long time ago, but it's still there."

"Shut up." Greg giggled.

"You love me, you know you do."

"I love you like I love getting a root canal." Greg giggled again, and Hodges shook his head. "Go annoy someone else, Sanders."

"How glad will you be if I come back?" Greg asked.

"Overjoyed," Hodges droned, sounding annoyed.

"I knew it!" Greg grinned widely.

"Go away before I kill you with one of Bobby Dawson's guns."

"You wouldn't. You'd miss me too much if I was really dead."

"Until I remember the moments like this."

"Besides, Bobby would kill you for killing me with one of his guns." Hodges shook his head, and Greg slapped him on the shoulder soundly.

"I really hate you." Greg smiled as Hodges worked on the sample again.

"Okay, fine, I'll leave you alone. Take it easy, Hodges." Greg started to walk out calmly.

"Take care of yourself, Sanders," Hodges said sincerely, looking up. Greg turned to the older man.

"You bet." Hodges nodded with half a smile before turning back to the work in front of him. "Oh, and don't worry, your secret's safe with me." Hodges shook his head as Greg walked out into the hallway. "Hey, Mandy, guess what Hodges just said!" Hodges groaned.

Mandy, the next unsuspecting victim of Greg's enthusiasm, looked at the ex-lab rat. "How'd you get here?" she asked him.

"I drove," Greg replied without missing a beat. She shook her head, sighing.

"I can always tell when you've just come from Trace. You're more of an asshole." He laughed softly, taking her by the arm. "So, what did Hodges say?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to piss him off." She laughed softly as the two of them walked into the print lab. "Can I borrow a bandana and your glasses?"

"Why?"

"Just trust me."

"Those are never comforting words, coming from you," she said, handing him what he asked for. He tied the bandana around his eyes and put the glasses over them. "Why do you need the bandana? You can't see anyway, you know."

"It's funnier this way," he explained. "Plus, I can see outlines."

"That's good, right?"

"I hope so. Thanks, Mandy." He started to walk into the hallway.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"For your safety, I'm not telling you." She shook her head, watching helplessly as he walked down the hallway.

"Just don't hurt yourself," she said to the empty lab.

* * *

Ecklie walked into the break room, covered in chocolate sauce, melted ice cream, and sprinkles. "Who thought this would be funny?" he groaned, looking at the CSIs assembled. Nick, Warrick, Catherine, Sara, Grissom, and Lindsey all looked at him, then looked one another before bursting into hysterical laughter. 

"Holy shit," Nick said after a moment. "Whoever did that deserves a medal." Ecklie groaned.

"When I find out who did it, they'll be suspended."

"Ecklie, if a CSI did it, you'll never figure out who," Sara said. "We're smart enough to cover all our tracks." She looked up at the melted human sundae that was the assistant lab director before bursting into another fit of laughter. Ecklie groaned again, walking out of the room to go get a shower and change. He didn't notice the bandana clad blind man walking the halls, but Greg could tell by the smell of hideous cologne and sundae components, as well as the sound of Ecklie's shoes clacking on the floor that he was passing the perfectly executed prank of himself and Lindsey. He walked past the break room, hearing their riotous laughter, presumably at his prank. He grinned, working on phase 2.

Sara straightened up, having notice Greg walking around with a bandana on his face and Mandy's glasses over it. "What the hell is he up to?" she asked aloud.

"Who?" Nick asked, following her gaze out the window and into the now empty hallway.

"Greg. He's walking around with a bandana over his eyes." The CSIs looked at one another before looking at Lindsey.

"Hey, don't ask me," she told them. "I don't know what's going through his head."

"But you do know who did that to Ecklie," Catherine said.

"It was Greg's idea. I just helped him."

"Lindsey…"

"Don't worry, we didn't leave any evidence. We're smarter than that." Catherine shook her head. "Besides, haven't you always wanted to see something like that happen to him?"

"That's beside the point."

"No it's not." Warrick chuckled to himself.

"Come on, Cath," he said. "It's funny, and she's just trying to keep Greg in good spirits. What's wrong with that?" Catherine shook her head.

"She's supposed to keep him out of trouble, not help him cause it."

"He'll be fine," Grissom said. Catherine shook her head again. "Let him have fun."

* * *

Greg sat behind Ecklie's desk, his feet resting on top of it. He held a magazine in front of him, pretending to read it as Ecklie walked in. Ecklie looked at the CSI, groaning and shaking his head. "Very funny, Sanders," he deadpanned. Greg looked up from the magazine. 

"Oh, hello, Conrad," he said with a smile. He closed the magazine and put it down on the desk.

"Did you need something, or did you just come to make my night hell?" Greg took his feet off the desk, taking the glasses off and placing them on top of the magazine.

"No, I don't need anything."

"Great. Then get the hell out of my chair."

"Wow, Ecklie, you're kinda mean after your shower, huh?" The director groaned.

"Well, it wasn't my idea to have to take a shower at work."

"Kids and their pranks. You know, I saw Brandon come in here earlier, didn't think anything about it until I saw you walking down the hall earlier."

"You can't see."

"Metaphorically speaking, I saw him and you." Greg took off the bandana. "Besides, I can see outlines."

"That's great. Get out from behind my desk."

"Come on, Ecklie. Loosen up." The older man shook his head. "You might stop losing your hair if you did."

"Get the hell out of my office, Sanders."

"You know, that's really not nice to say to someone in my condition."

"Grow up." Greg frowned, closing his eyes and sniffling.

"You don't know how hard this has been for me, Ecklie," Greg said, tears coming to his eyes. "Not knowing whether or not I'm ever going to see again. The doctor said that this may be the most I'll be able to see for the rest of my life. Do you know what that's like?" Greg started crying softly, and Ecklie frowned, feeling horrible for taking his anger out on the young CSI. "I have nothing anymore."

"That's not true, Greg," he said softly, hoping to soothe the young man. "You still have your friends, your family. They're not going anywhere."

"I'm going to have to rely on everyone else for the rest of my life. Can't get around on my own when I can't see where I'm going. Do you know what that's like? How much it hurts to know that you'll never see the sun rise again? Never see the trees, the flowers, colors, people, all the things you've been accustomed to for so long?" Greg sniffled, and Ecklie put his hand on Greg's shoulder, feeling sorry for him. "And you're yelling at me."

"I'm sorry, Greg. I really am." Greg sighed, clearing out his tears.

"Yeah, well, so am I." Greg got up, taking the bandana and glasses with him.

"Cheer up, kid." Greg smiled.

"I'm fine. I was saying sorry for the ice cream." Greg ran out of the room quickly as Ecklie realized what he meant. The director started chasing after him, and Greg sprinted into the break room.

"Get back here, you little shit!" Ecklie screamed.

"Lindsey, we gotta go, like now," Greg said. She shook her head.

"No," she told him in her best motherly tone. "You got yourself into this, you've gotta deal with it."

"But Mo-om…"

"No." Ecklie came running into the break room, grabbing Greg by the scruff of the neck.

"Get over here, Sanders," he said, dragging the kid out of the room as his colleagues watched in amusement.

"But I have to give Mandy her glasses back," Greg whined.

"You're in big trouble."

"Oh, fuck me."


	6. Conclusion

A/N: Okay, so this is the final part. As always, I don't own CSI, CBS, or any known entity. The idea Greg had last chapter with the bandanna and Mandy's glasses was adapted from a scene in MASH, and so is a line in here. I don't own them, and I'm sorry I forgot to say that before. And Maverick is actually George Eads' dog (so obviously I don't own him), but I thought it'd be fun to put him in here.

Having said all that, it's been fun having you guys all along for the ride, and I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have. I should have an update for "Hate Me" soon as well, for those of you enjoying that. As always, enjoy and please review. :)

* * *

Invisible City- Conclusion

**_So I've learned how to compromise, good people for alibis_**

Greg sighed, stretching as he woke up once again in Nick's guest room. He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the view of the back of his eyelids. He was exhausted, more so than he could ever remember being. He could smell Nick making breakfast in the other room as he wandered into the bathroom, eyes still closed. At this point, he'd learned where everything was in Nick's house so he didn't crash into anything anymore. The only object he could never predict was Nick's dog, Maverick, who barked from the doorway. "Wait your turn," Greg joked sleepily. He heard Nick walk down the hall, stopping outside the bathroom.

"Greg, how many times do I have to tell you to close the door?" Nick grumbled from his spot beside the door. "Just because you can't see doesn't mean the rest of us can't."

"Eh, I thought you'd be used to it by now." Greg finished his business, eyes still closed.

"Tired?"

"Just a little."

"That's what you get for pissing Ecklie off."

"I'm glad I still have a job, but I didn't think he'd make me clean his office so much. I can't believe he made me do it every day for an entire week."

"Well, you did make a pretty big mess in there. You had it coming."

"Lindsey did it too."

"But you didn't rat her out. You're a good boy." Greg shrugged.

"I didn't see any reason for the kid to get dragged into his punishment."

"Did you learn your lesson?"

"Yes, Daddy," Greg retorted. "When's food?"

"When you finally open your eyes so you don't spill your coffee all over yourself." Greg opened his eyes, blinking as they tried to adjust to the light. The haze that had been blurring his vision for a couple weeks now cleared completely, and he gasped. "What?" Nick asked, worried.

"I can see," Greg said. "It's clear! I can see!" Nick smiled widely at his friend's enthusiasm, laughing softly as the younger man started dancing with Maverick. "I can see, I can see, I can seeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!"

"That's awesome, man," he said. "Congrats."

"Thanks." Greg sat down, eating breakfast, happier than he could ever remember being. Nick couldn't help but laugh to himself at Greg's happiness. He was just as happy that the kid could see again. After breakfast, Greg helped clean up as he calmed down. Greg changed and called Grissom, while Nick called Lindsey. Afterward, the two sat on Nick's balcony, drinking lemonade.

"You're lucky," he said softly to the younger man. Greg smiled.

"I got lucky twice," he replied thoughtfully. "I got the chance to experience life and the world without sight, and then I got it back again." Nick looked at the young man, who had a permanent smile on his face. He patted Greg's arm, and the smile grew wider. They stayed on Nick's balcony, watching the sunset. "I'll never take this sight for granted again."

"I won't either." Greg looked over at him, and Nick smiled.

"Hey, Nick, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"Remember how I told you that I saw Demitrius?"

"Yeah."

"He said something to me that I really can't get out of my head."

"What's that?"

"He told me that you killed someone before." Nick nodded, not really commenting. "That true?"

"Yeah, sorta. I mean, I didn't do anything wrong, but I blamed myself and a lot of other people did too."

"Who?"

"Jake Ryan. He was a drug dealer in Dallas. He knifed a girl on the street, and then stole a car to hightail it out of there. I was on the PD at the time, so I pursued the guy in my car. He made a quick turn and we collided head on. He didn't make it, but he also almost killed me and my partner."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It was ages ago."

"Is that why you became a CSI?"

"Not exactly. I wanted to start out at the lab, but there wasn't any openings, so I became a cop. When they had an opening, I jumped at the chance." Greg nodded, and Nick took a drink from his almost empty glass. He looked down at his watch before looking at Greg. " C'mon, kiddo, it's time to go to work." Greg smiled.

"I never thought I'd ever want to go back so bad." Nick laughed.

"Yeah, I bet. Just stay clear of Ecklie." Greg laughed heartily.

"Deal." The pair went inside, readying themselves for the night.

**THE END**


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